Tuesday 30 January 2024

The low cost of a locust fib

A new locust menu

The bizarre is something you cannot begin to understand, it is like a tale you heard on the grapevine. Peeping at me through a phone screen was a head ahead of its game in fantabulous stories that astound beyond the reach of sitting at the feet of a vizier raconteur regaling us with tales in the Arabian Nights.

The baldie suffering in the African sun, weeding and tending his plants was overwhelmed by a swarm of locusts that had no appetite and thankfully so for his crops, they had acquired a taste for hair and those with non-black highlights too.

They stripped his scalp of every strand that he looked like he had just left a side-street Thai massage parlour that offers Brazilian waxes of places nether and places obvious.

That is his story, and this is for the record.

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